


Robbery

by PossiblyHuman



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: probably swearing, self indulgent stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3622734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PossiblyHuman/pseuds/PossiblyHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford helps his brother and his 'friend' steal something. The plan backfires, and Stanford goes to jail, seething at his betrayal and swearing revenge on the 'friend', one Bill Cipher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley helps his brother and his 'friend' steal something. The plan backfires, and Stanley goes to jail, seething at his betrayal and swearing revenge on the 'friend', one Bill Cipher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how long this one is going to be, and I should have been writing the other story, but this one popped into my head and I had to. EDIT: Names changed, status still remains as AU. In this AU Stanley never left home, never grew the mullet(his hair is the same as when they were 18), and stayed in/near the Mystery Shack while Stanford studied.

Police sirens blared as their feet pounded against the slick sidewalk. The two men had already pulled off their masks, tucking them away. They were dressed in darker colors so that, as they flashed through the night, twisting down alleys to avoid their pursuers, they remained almost entirely unnoticed. The two were the exact same height and of the same build, twins and identical in facial features, but they weren’t both so easily used to exercise. They both wore glasses that helped to tell them apart, the one with square glasses had shorter; more styled, hair, than the one with rounder glasses, and was breathing more heavily, not used to things that required endurance. The man in the square glasses stopped suddenly, bending over and putting his hands on his knees, needing to take a breather.The other ran a few more steps, looking out the end of the current alleyway they were in, before turning back to check on his panting twin.

“Stanley?” He hissed out. “We have to keep moving, you know that.”

Stanley looked up at his brother, who was remaining pretty calm in this situation. Then again, his brother usually dealt with a lot worse. “I know, hold on.” He sucked in one more deep breath and took off again, his brother running behind him.

The two had been betrayed. It was supposed to be a simple job, in and out with the totem. Stanford, the one with the round glasses, and his…friend…had needed it for research, or summoning, Stanley didn’t know the details; they hadn’t thought to tell him. He didn’t even think that Stanford’s friend even bothered to learn his name, as he sometimes called Stanford ‘Stan’. That is, when he wasn’t calling him ‘Six’ or ‘Glasses’. He barely acknowledged Stanley, who was fine with that, the Egyptian man was creepy as hell.

The totem had been surrounded by high security, being a part of a rich private collector’s exclusive treasure. Stanford and his friend had wanted to do it on their own, but since Stanley had experience in breaking the law, he insisted on coming along to help. He didn’t even bat an eye at the thought of the theft, having done worse in Columbia himself.

Stanley was supposed to stay in the car, but he got uneasy and ended up following the two in. He found Stanford, who had been separated from their partner-in-crime. They realized just a little too late that the man had used them to some other end, then turned them in. The alarm was raised, and they high-tailed it out of there. Stanford took a wrong turn, but came sprinting after Stanley. He had muttered to his twin that the cops, and a security camera, had seen him. They were currently fleeing the scene, and the outlook didn’t look too hot for them.

The sirens were drawing nearer, and Stanley’s mind was racing, trying to think of a way out of this. He only had one idea that would stop the chase, and he stopped running, turning to face his brother, as he too slowed to a stop. Stanford opened his mouth to ask why they stopped, looking annoyed and also frightened that they had done so again do soon, and Stanley pulled him behind the nearest dumpster, making them sit down.

“I have an idea. Just follow my lead.”

Stanley had a criminal record; Stanford had no record except for scientific papers and awards. It was going to remain that way. The only problem was that the cops had seen Stanford, not Stanley. He slipped off his glasses and handed them to Stanford, snatching his twin’s in return. His brother shook his head, looking back and forth between the glasses and Stanley.

“No, I can’t let you do this.” Stanford said firmly. Stanley glared at him.

“Bullshit, Poindexter. You’re going to let me do this. I’m not letting my brother ruin his perfect record because of some dumb William.”

“Bill.” Stanford corrected, putting Stanley’s glasses on slowly. “Are you sure? You know I’d never ask you to do this.”

“I know.” Stanley blinked, the sight behind the glasses being clearer than normal. He should update his prescription, as his twin obviously had.

“Stanley, this won’t work. Bill knows my name.” Stanford protested.

“I doubt he’ll look further than knowing ‘Stan Pines’ was arrested.” Stanley replied, “And I could always tell him he was mistaken and I was Stanley the whole time. It’s common to mix up twins, especially ones with very similar names.” Stanford nodded, obviously still not happy with this turn of events. Stanley ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it as similarly messy as his brother’s. The sirens continued to advance as they sat there.

“Here’s the plan, you stay here until I’m gone and all of the cars are too. Then you leave, take a taxi back home. I’ll use my phone call tomorrow at noon. Be sure to pick up the phone.” Stanford nodded, obviously not used to getting orders from his brother. Usually, during research and monster hunts, he was the more experienced and in charge. Stanley patted his brother on the shoulder, pulling out the mask again and pulling it over his face.

“It’s only breaking and entering and attempted burglary. I’ll only be in for one year at the most.” He stood up, running down the alley towards the sirens. Stanley hoped his brother would stay there and he “accidentally” went on the main street, popping right in front of a police car. He put his hands up as the policewoman driving the car stepped out, immediately pointing her gun at him. Her partner radioed it in, and the process of being arrested, one he was way too familiar with, began.

He was cuffed, his mask taken away, and brought all the way to the police station. Bill was there, apparently acting as a witness to the crimes. He took one look at Stanley and swore it was him that did it. He had a small smirk directed at Stanley, which made his gut clench. He was planning on framing Stanford the entire time. He glared at Bill as the other man told his events, not listening to a word that was said, until ‘assault’ and ‘theft’ set alarms off in his brain.

“Now, hold on. I didn’t take anything, and I didn’t attack anyone!” Stanley protested.

“He did!” Bill insisted and the cops focused on him. The look on his face when they turned back to Stanley was nothing short of smug and condescending. Stanley felt his blood boil. Bill must really hate his brother. The police officers started to pull him past the Egyptian man. Stanley hissed at him as he passed.

“Just you wait, Bill Cipher!” He pulled at the arms dragging him away and pointed at Bill. “When I get out…”

Bill’s face broke into a grin, "It's over. Have fun in jail, Six." and he turned away without another word to him, aside from bubbling laughter as he departed. 

It wasn’t over. Stanley wouldn’t let this end like this. Not when this was against him and his family personally, oh no.

This was just the start.


	2. Chapter 2

A cold night in a cell with a snoring drunkard was uncomfortable, but nothing Stanley hadn't dealt with before.

In fact, it was a major improvement from the last times he was in jail. The man with him the first time was blubbering about being innocent and seemed to think Stanley believing him was crucial to his cause. The latest time had been with two huge guys who only spoke Spanish in front of him. Though he tried to remain upbeat about it and convince himself they were his friends, he could have sworn, with the little Spanish he knew, that they wanted him to die. At least this time, the man was quiet.

The silence gave Stanley time to think about what to do. He had stayed up most of the night thinking already, and the sun was just coming up. He was good at heckling, but the only way he could put up a defense against these crimes he was accused of, would be to throw his own brother under the bus. There was no way he was doing that, he had gone too far with this already, and his record could take the beating. Even if no one would hire him for years if they found out how many repeat offenses he had. That would be tough, but he could figure something out. Not everyone was close-minded.

At the present moment, the most Stanley thought he could do was, once it was time to make his phone call, call Stanford and let him know what was going on. Stanley would also have to encourage his twin to continue his research and not worry about him. Maybe while he was calling he would ask Stanford where he had managed to find a backstabbing sociopath like Bill Cipher.

He was sure the story was good, his brother had very few friends and didn't give himself opportunities to make more. Stanford's only other friend he had so far was his assistant, a scientist a little older than the two of them who enjoyed building aggressive robots, and had showed up out of the blue to help Stanford with a project of his. So Bill must've also been met during one of his brother's escapades that Stanley didn't go on. Bill must have been a good researcher, but he had taken Stanley at face value to being his twin. The two of them looked alike, of course. However, Stanley didn't have 6 fingers on either of his hands, and there were other small differences between the two. Bill may have not caught them in the short time they had spoken. To be fair, his hands were cuffed behind his back when Bill saw him.

Stanley shifted on the uncomfortable cot, knowing he should try to sleep, even if it was only a little. He didn't dare take off his brother's glasses in a place like this, it would be safer to sleep in them. It seemed like he had only just shut his eyes when he was wrenched out of the blissful darkness by a yelling guard.

"Stan Pines!"

His eyes shot open, the man across from him was gone. He had only been there to stay the night, because of disturbance of the peace. He twisted out of his laying down position, to a sitting one, the cot groaning and feeling as if it were going to collapse at the movement. He looked over towards the guard who had been yelling.

The guard wasn't particularly young, and fairly overweight. In the low lighting outside of the cell, his facial features were darker. The scowl on his face was engraved deeper than the Grand Canyon.

"Visitor!" He barked at Stanley, who gave him a blank stare. Who would be visiting him? His brother would wait for the call first, wouldn't he? The guard scoffed at his silence, walking off.

As soon as the guard had disappeared out of sight, another man side-stepped into view, coming to stand directly in front of the bars. His teeth flashed white in the dim lighting at a grin, and he leaned into the bars, his face finally catching the light of the cell. Stanley would have recognized the unique face in any case, with the scar tissue entirely covering one eye, but because of recent events, it garnered a greater reaction.

Bill Cipher. Stanley glowered at him.

"What do you want?"

"Hey there, Six! Sorry about all this." Bill waved a hand at Stanley. "Yeah, I stabbed you in the back, but what did you expect by making a deal with...well someone like me?"

Stanley stood up, crossing over to the bars. He didn't know what "deal" his brother had made, but he was 99% sure that, judging by his brother's shock at being betrayed, Bill hadn't fulfilled his end.

"I trusted you." Stanley said hesitantly, hoping that would emulate his brother enough. Bill rolled his eye.

"Kid, that was really dumb of you. They don't call me "demon" for nothing."

Stanley was filing all of this away for when he was going to call his brother, and he thought he was doing a good job of fooling the other man into believing that he was Stanley. People believe what they want to see, and Bill seemed distracted enough that even if he had paid attention to Stanley, he would have still believed he was Stanford.

"You never answered my question, Bill." Stanley made his shoulders slump, looking away from Bill. He had to keep up his brother's formal, strange way of talking. "What is it that you want?"

"I want it back." Bill inspected his nails, reaching through the bars with his other hand. "Just make it easier for yourself and give it up, I'll make sure the charges aren't pressed against you."

Stanley stared at Bill's hand. He had no idea what the other wanted. Perhaps he could bluff his way out? "I doubt you could get them to drop the charges."

Bill's hand dropped, along with his wide grin. "Six, are you doubting what I can do  _now_  of all times? I mean look." 

Bill gestured to his own body. Stanley's eyes glanced over it. He didn't understand what he was supposed to be impressed about. It was a little muscular, and tall, but aside from that, it was a normal body.

"I proooomise, trust me here, that I want nothing more than to take my "item" back and get back to my buisness," Bill insisted, looking at Stanley with a great deal more impatience. "Just give it back."

"I don't trust you, how could I, after that stunt?" Stanley backed to the far side of the cell, knowing that even if he had whatever Bill wanted, it would be a very bad idea, and plus completely pointless, to give it to him. "No."

Bill groaned, his eye narrowing. "Oh come  _ooon_! You lost, don't be a sore loser. Hand it over." When Stanley gave no indication of coming towards Bill, his face fell into a look of rage.

"Fine," He hissed, the entire room seemingly darkening with his anger. Stanley could have sworn his eye flashed a bright red, but it must have only been the lighting. Bill Cipher turned on his heel, fists clenched, and face turned away from Stanley. He took a deep breath, looking back once more towards Stanley.

"Stanford Pines, you will regret not cooperating with me. You can rot in jail, but as soon as you get out, you will never be alone, you will never escape. I'll always be watching you."

The room brightened back up as Bill's face slipped back into it's original cheerful expression. It was as if the entire episode hadn't even happened. He waved goodbye to Stanley, and left.


	3. Chapter 3

A little while later, the sulky guard came back with another guard who was a lot younger and more cheerful looking. He unlocked Stanley's cell and the cheerful one came in to cuff him.

"Come on, time to go."

"Go?" Stanley echoed, as he was dragged out by the two. He was thrown off guard, he shouldn't have his trial yet, what did they want? "Hold up! I didn't get my phone call."

"Make it quick." The grumpy guard grumbled, shoving him towards one of the call phones in the station. "We've got to hit the road."

Stanley looked meaningfully down at his handcuffs, and the cheerful guard moved to unlock them. The other guard stopped him, shaking his head.

"We have to use precaution with a repeat offendor like Stan Pines."

Said repeat offendor shrugged, more than used to maneuvering with handcuffs, and turned to the phone. He dialed Stanley's number, the cuffs jingling at the movement, and pulled the phone up to his ear, hearing the tone ring. He looked back at the police officers, raising an eyebrow. He knew he had the right to a phone call without them breathing down his neck.

The grumpy one snorted, and motioned the younger officer to go with him. They walked down the hall, well enough away, but still leaving Stanley in their sights. The phone rang only twice before the receiver was yanked up, and his brother answered.

"Hello?" He sounded a lot calmer to Stanley than he had yesterday. He supposed it was normal, considering the more stressful things that happened to his brother on a daily basis.

"Hey." Stanley eyed the police officers, before turning away from them, unsure if they could read his lips.

"Is everything alright?" His brother asked. "It's 1 o'clock. Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing about the trial except apparently there are also assault charges now." Stanley heard his brother suck in a breath at that, but it sounded less surprised than he thought it would. "And, Bill visited me."

"What!?" There was the surprise. "What did he want?"

"He asked me some things." Stanley said quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the guards. "Things that I need to know if I'm going to continue to do this."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. It dragged on just a little too long, and Stanley pressed his brother.

"Stanford, this is important. You need to at least tell me enough that I can pass when he comes again."

"How do you know he'll come again?" Stanford asked quietly.

"He told me he would," Stanley said offhandedly, leaving out all the things the incredibly creepy man had promised him, not wanting his brother to have second thoughts and turn himself in too. "That's not important right now, I just need to know enough."

"You won't believe some of it." Stanford admitted. "I met Bill while researching, as you know. What you don't know, is he was actually a part of my research."

"What?" Stanley visualized the man. He was weird, sure. But his brother dealt in supernatural level weird, and Bill seemed perfectly human to him. Human, but insane.

"He has magic." Well that would explain some things, but it sounded like he was holding back. Stanley wasn't very comfortable with admitting these things, but his brother knew more about stuff like this than he did.

"What else?" He asked. "He seemed very keen on getting something from you. I can continue to refuse, no problem, but what is it?"

Silence again.

"Hello? Come on Ford, I don't have much time, these cops are giving me the stink eye."

"Stanley." Stanford stated firmly. "I think I should-."

"No! No way. You have important research to do." Stanley insisted, cutting his brother off before he could incriminate himself over a, no doubt, tapped phone. His brother sighed on the other end of the phone.

"Fine. Regarding the thing of Bill's I have, all you have to do is continue to refuse him, and don't let him touch you."

"Why the hell would he touch me?" Stanley asked, his mind immediately drifting to the gutter. "You have something you want to tell me?"

"Not like that. Jesus, Lee." He could hear the hint of a smile at Stanford's words, even though he was trying to remain serious. "He'd go for your arm or your hand."

"I'm guessing that has something to do with the 'magic' he has?"

"Yes."

"Got it." Stanley replied shortly, knowing he probably wouldn't get anything more from his twin. He wanted to leave this call on a slightly happier note, though. "Hey, mail me some books and shit for prison, ok?"

"I could bring them myself," His twin offered.

"No." Stanley replied. "Unless you want to show up dressed like me. Bill will see you otherwise and he'd do something about it. I have to go."

"I'll keep that in mind. Goodbye Stanley."

"See ya."

Stanley hung up the phone. He didn't like this mystery surrounding Bill Cipher, or the fact that his brother insisted on keeping all the mystery shrouded in darkness. He had more questions that he couldn't ask because of how jumpy his brother was about this. He'd have to try at a more spaced out pace.

He glanced over at the police officers, who were heading back over to him. He hadn't told his brother he was being moved, either. It was best not to tell him all the unnecessary things. The cops moved him quickly to a police car, driving away from the station.


	4. Chapter 4

Stanley was being jolted around in the back of the police car as it sped quickly over the bumpy road it was on. It was pouring outside, so his visibility out the windows was limited.

He eyed the officers in the two front seats. The cheerful one avoided his gaze as he drove, having already been scolded for giving away too much to Stanley earlier. Stanley had asked where they were going and the cheerful man had prattled on about the prison he was being taken to. It made a little sense for him to go to a more permanent holding area before his trial, but the way the grumpy officer had glared at the cheerful one gave Stanley the impression that there was more to it. The grumpy guard met his stare with a defiant look and Stanley looked away, knowing he couldn't get anything out of an unwilling to cooperate man.

They had been driving for a while, and they seemed to be going out into the country. There were woods all around them, and the roads had gotten rougher and rougher, from the less frequent pavings that resulted from the low budget of rural areas.

He tried to engage in light conversation, but the grump wouldn't say a word. The younger looked like he really wanted to converse, but he was so intimidated by his partner that he continued to be silent.

Eventually, a building rose into view in front of them. Stanley hoped to god it was the prison so he could be freed from the stifling silence. The car slowed to a stop and the two left the car. Stanley squinted through the windshield, thinking the prison looked familiar, but couldn't quite place it through the water pouring down. His door opened and he was met with a whoosh of wind, soaking him and the inside of the car within seconds. He grumbled as he was pulled out of the car by a different officer. As the door slammed shut, he saw the two men he had spent the last few hours in the car with running back to the car. They climbed in without a second glance to him and drove away. He was led into the doors of the prison, and looked around for some sort of sign. His brother's glasses were too covered in water to allow him any sight, and he took them off, wiping them enough so that they were streaked, but clear enough to see through.

He was in front of a desk of some sort, probably meant to check him in. The secretary was giving him a wide smile, and he glanced down at her nametag. Her name was something generic, Laura or something, and he really had no interest in it. He wanted to know the name of the prison he was in, and he knew it would be also on the nametag.

"Gravity Falls Maximum Security Prison?" He asked incredulously. Why Gravity Falls of all places? Maybe it was because of his current residency? But why in the world would he be in Maximum Security?

"That's right." Lauren, no, Laura replied, reaching out a clipboard to Stanley. "Weren't you paying attention during your trial?"

"I didn't have my trial yet." Stanley insisted.

"But..." The secretary's smile dropped. "You did, I was sent the verdict and sentence. Its all here, on file."

His guard shoved Stanley to the side, reaching out for the papers himself. He quickly filled everything out, giving the clipboard back to the secretary. "Don't let him get to you Laura, prisoners sent here are tricky little bastards."

The secretary looked like she wanted to say something else, but she buzzed the two into the next area instead. The rest of what would happen, Stanley was used to. He went through the motions, realizing after a few more protests that no one believed he didn't have his trial yet.

He was given a cell with a single bunk, which he was sort of grateful for, the inmates in this prison looked hostile and strong. He turned to the guard, who was locking him in.

"What was my sentence?"

The guard looked at him like he was crazy, which he was used to by now with all of his questions towards his own "trial". He shrugged and looked down at the papers in his hand.

"Stan Pines...3 months."

At least he knew how long he was going to be there for, but it seemed like a very low time period for the crime. He must have had a good lawyer...or something else. He had to ask one more question. He needed to know how often he would be bothered by the mystical demon of a man named Bill.

"When are visiting hours?"

The guard checked the papers again, raising an eyebrow at what he found. "You seem to be a special case. You have visiting hours almost every day....actually you were supposed to have some today. Someone will be back later."

"How lucky." He muttered. He had a suspicion that this whole thing was planned by Bill. His brother did say he had magic, and as far as Stanley knew, Bill resided in Gravity Falls. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd have to get really good at lying to this guy. He looked at his five fingers on each of his hands. He'd have to almost permanently hide that difference.

He stared at them, knowing that if Bill got one good look at his hands, it'd be over. An idea came to his mind, and though it would be painful as hell, it could cover the issue for a while. He'd rather not do something like this, but he was running out of time.

Stanley took a deep breath, bracing himself for the pain, and began punching his cell wall as hard as he could.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time visitation time rolled around, Stanley had already been to the Jail Doctor and his hands were bandaged all the way, his fingers wrapped together into a square lump, as he had broken quite a few of them. He was eternally angry, for the first time in his life, at the genes that had given his brother six fingers on both hands. He didn't like the idea of mangling both of his hands in a place where fights happened daily and for little reason.

Stanley was led to the visitation room by a very attractive guard, whom under different circumstances he might have hit on, where Bill sat waiting. She handcuffed him to the table and Bill's eyes were drawn to his bandaged hands.

"Jeez, what happened to you, Six?"

"He punched a damn wall." The guard replied for him.

Bill burst out laughing, waving his hand at the guard to leave. She left the two and Bill leaned over to grab one of the bandaged hands, no doubt to make it look like he was concerned.

"You really can't be trusted with yourself.."

Stanley yanked his hands away as Bill's fingers hovered close, the chains jingling as he pulled his hands as far away from the table as the handcuffs would allow.

"Oh please, It's not going to be that easy, Cipher." He spat.

Bill shrugged and leaned back, a smile hiding the look of mild annoyance he had a second before. "I've got time, Pines. Lots of time."

Stanley snorted. "Then why'd you make the sentence shorter?" Bill feigned a look of surprise. "Don't lie, I know you did it."

"Haha! Guilty as charged. You're one smart cookie." Bill replied, flicking some hair away from his face with the irritation of someone who had never had to do that before.

"So what is it?" Stanley asked, "Did you get bored? It's been one day, that's pretty pathetic if you ask me."

"No." The other man's voice sounded amused. "I need it back sooner than I originally thought, but this was fun, kid."

Stanley raised an eyebrow at the use of "kid", Bill couldn't have been much older than him.

"Now." He stood up, one hand supporting him on the table as he leaned over to Stanley. He reached the other hand out. "Give me your hand, I'm starting to get  _really_  tired of this limited form."

Form? What was that even supposed to mean? Stanley really hated this situation. Even if he wanted to give Bill what he wanted, which he really didn't, it wasn't like he actually had it. Whatever "it" was. It would help Bill's "form" and he wanted nothing more than to never help the other man.

Getting an idea, he looked down at the table legs, surprised that they weren't nailed in. He looked back up at Bill, who was waiting patiently, assuming correctly that he was weighing his options. He closed his eyes, knowing he really had only one option in this case.

"No." He kicked the table, tilting it sharply to the side with his hands. Bill made a sound of surprise and toppled off of it as it overturned with a loud thump. Stanley pushed the table into his head, hard, knocking him into the wall and holding him there, careful he was using only the table and not touching him at all. His hands twinged sharply, but he fought through the pain.

Bill pushed on the table with surprising strength, knocking Stanley backwards, the table hitting the ground and pulling him down too. Bill kicked the table, slamming it into Stanley and picked it up, crashing the side away from Stanley into the wall, where it stayed. Stanley's eyes were wide as he glanced between the wall and Bill.

Within seconds of the crash, his guard had come back, unhandcuffing him from the table and dragging him towards the door, apologizing to Bill.

Bill's eye was glued to Stanley's smirking face, and if the tall man had looked angry the first time he had visited him, it was nothing compared to the burning fury he had on his face now. His eye was red, the white around the iris had turned black, and yellow sparks were flying around him as he shook from anger. A trickle of blood was falling from Bill's mouth, and Stanley was bleeding through his bandages and sporting probably a few more bruises than he had before.

Bill's strength had really surprised him, it was inhuman to be able to throw a table like that. He supposed it was partially due to the magic his brother referred to. Stanley hoped whatever he was protecting for his brother was damn worth it, because he might very well get killed by this man.


	6. Chapter 6

It was pretty well expected that Bill would come back. He was a stubborn asshole, and now he was mad. Stanley really didn't like how much stronger the man was than him, it put the boxer on edge. He always thought he had a fair chance of winning whenever he fought, but he knew this guy was just way too powerful for him.

Stanley was waiting in constant dread for days after the fighting incident. Every day, when a guard came by to announce who had visitors, Stanley was on the edge of his seat, flinching every time they guard got close to his name on the list, and relaxing when Pines went unsaid.

He'd go back to his cot and sit there, remembering the horrifying glow Bill's eye had gotten and his superhuman strength. His body remembered it too, having been banged around with much more force than he originally expected. His back and arms were covered in bruises, big nasty purple ones.

A few weeks passed with no Bill. Stanley started to relax, he even called his brother, asking if he wanted to come see him, making sure he would visit him in disguise. The bruises had almost faded by that time, only one not seeming to budge at all. It didn't hurt very much, it just maintained a yellow and red tint.

Seeing his twin, even through the strange glass and Stanley dressed like him was comforting. It was strange, like looking in a mirror, but it wasn't like they hadn't switched appearances before, and Stanley could see the differences others couldn't at first. He saw the slight cleft in his brother's chin, one that was covered by stubble that the both of them shared.

Stanford complained about Stanley's glasses, insisting he was going to up the prescription while Stanley was in prison, and scolding him for the disrepair his own glasses were in, taking them from his brother and wiping the lenses.

"Have you ever heard of something called 'cleaning'??"

His brother prattled on about research, and things he'd been missing, barely letting Stanley get a word in. The few burning questions Stanley got in about Bill were brushed off or answered with a vague, cryptic answer. He managed to get a more solid answer when he asked about what Stanford had of Bill's, insisting it was no big deal, he had to know to keep it a secret. After some hesitation, no doubt his brother trying to figure out what to tell him, Stanford spoke:

"I have a part of his power. He can't return to his normal state without it, but I need it for my research. He'll get it back, he's just very impatient and tried to break a deal of allotted time that he made with me."

"It sounds like you're the bad guy here, Ford." Stanley pointed out. "It is his after all."

"You don't understand, it doesn't work that way with someone like Bill."

Stanley wanted to ask more, but he didn't want his brother to know Bill had visited, so he backed off, complaining about the prison's food. Stanford promised he'd send him something if he could, and if not, he'd try to sneak something in next time he visited. Stanley was surprised, his brother had never really visited him when he had gone to prison, being far too busy. He assumed he was busy, at least. He didn't want to think that his brother had just not cared enough to in the past. He posed an easier question, asking if Stanford would really be coming back, he didn't have to if it interfered with research time.

"It's a lot easier to visit you if you're this close." Stanford explained, getting up to go. "It doesn't waste any time."

Stanley lifted one of his hands to wave goodbye to his brother, and it seemed like Stanford finally noticed them, eyes darting between the lumps. "What happened to your hands?"

Well, it was pretty commonplace that his brother wouldn't notice such a detail, but Stanley couldn't help but remember Bill Cipher noticed it right away. It was mostly healed by this time, the scratches anyway. The bones were still healing, so it was still wrapped tightly, him refusing a brightly colored cast in favor of promising not to mess with the splint.

"I fell." Stanley lied. "Damn prison floors."

Stanford shook his head at his brother, turning and walking out of the prison. Stanley got up and retreated back to his cell. His schedule continued as such, his brother visiting once a week, and visit brought him closer and closer to leaving the prison. He was relieved and felt a pressure lifted off of him, free from all worries as his final week in prison rolled in. His hands were about to come out of the casts, he was doing great.

At least, until Bill showed up again.


End file.
